


Lion's Love

by wolfandwild



Series: Lion of the Alliance [7]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Action & Romance, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:42:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfandwild/pseuds/wolfandwild
Summary: A collection of vignettes that take place during the course of the 'Lion of the Alliance' series. These are short scenes that didn't necessarily have a place within the flow of the main storyline, but that still wanted to be told. They are mostly fun and fluffy, and may not be presented in chronological order.





	1. Eggnog

**Author's Note:**

> The current chapter takes place around three weeks after the conclusion of 'Lion's Triumph.'

A light snow fell upon Stormwind Keep as Varian sat down to Winter Veil dinner in his private dining chambers. The room itself looked magnificent, the walls decked with holly and the enormous oak table set aglow by the light of hundreds of candles. It was a warm, happy place, and although Varian was not one to be especially moved by the spirit of the season, even he felt heartened to have his friends and family sitting all around. Stormwind's Winter Veil Ball would be held the following night, as was tradition, but tonight was a far less formal affair. This was a dinner for those closest to the King of Stormwind alone; a time to forget war and duty, and to instead celebrate the simple pleasures of good wine and good company.

In attendance were Genn and Mia Greymane, along with their daughter, Tess. Mia and Tess typically spent most of their time at the worgen enclave in Darnassus, and it was a rare pleasure for Genn to have the company of his family. He was clearly overjoyed to have his wife and only daughter by his side for Winter Veil, and he had been as genial and animated as Varian had ever seen them. Tess, too, seemed excited to be visiting Stormwind. She was a few years older than Anduin, and from all accounts she was a sharp and adventurous young woman. She and Anduin had been getting along famously, much to Genn's delight, though Varian wondered how much it had to do with personality, and how much due to the fact that they were the only two living royal heirs in the Alliance. Anduin had never really had any peers his own age, and Varian suspected Tess may have suffered from a similar problem. It was nice to see the two young people so bright and happy around the Keep, and Varian was immensely glad that he had extended both Tess and Mia an invitation.

Jaina and Kalec had also arrived in Stormwind a few hours before the dinner, and would be staying to attend the Ball. Jaina had come bearing mountains of presents, chief amongst them two very lumpy Winter Veil sweaters that Varian strongly suspected she had knitted herself. Anduin had been gifted a cream coloured sweater adorned by dopey, lopsided lion, while Varian had received a dark blue sweater embroidered with a rather sad looking white wolf. Anduin had donned his sweater immediately, delighted by the gift, though Varian had taken considerably more persuading. He had eventually relented under the combined assault of Anduin's pleading and Jaina's wide-eyed pouting, and had reluctantly pulled the sweater on over his otherwise plain tunic. The sweater was somehow even uglier when stretched across his enormous barrel chest, but he rather felt it was worth wearing the thing after he caught sight of Auriana failing to hide a broad grin behind her hand.

Varian had also invited his old friends Broll Bearmantle and Valeera Sanguinar, though sadly neither had been able to attend. He had wanted to introduce them both to Auriana, though on reflection, it may have been better to leave such introductions for a later time. Ever since the Draenor victory parade, when Auriana had kissed him in front of the entire city, she had been caught up in a whirlwind of attention and rumours. She had handled herself well, Varian felt, though he knew being suddenly thrust into noble life had put a great strain on her. Strangely enough, however, the private dinner had seemed to worry her more than any public appearances. She knew Anduin very well, of course, and had at least worked with both Jaina and Kalec, but she was less certain about the Greymanes. It was clearly very important to Auriana that she was well received amongst Varian's friends and peers, and in the end he decided it was probably best that she were not overwhelmed by too many new faces all at once.

Still, Auriana had risen to the occasion, despite her fears, and Varian could hardly take his eyes off her from where she sat opposite him at the dinner table. She had worn a gorgeous, dark green velvet dress that emphasised her tiny waist, and showed off her figure to great effect. Her hair was wound about her head in a series of elaborate, shining braids, and she had even chosen to wear a stunning set of jewels in her ears. She looked quite simply radiant, and as the night wore on, Varian found himself concentrating less on his meal and more on what it might be like to kiss her soft, rosy lips...

That was not to cast aspersions on the hard working men and women in the kitchens, of course. Dinner had been wonderful; a simple but sumptuous feast of roast beef, potatoes, vegetables and rich, delicious gravy. The meal had been accompanied by a generous supply of red wine and a creamy, brandy-laced eggnog, and everyone in the group was more than sated by the time they retired to Varian's parlour to drink and talk the night away.

It was warm and comfortable in the salon, and Varian was pleased that he was able to afford his friends and family a space where they could relax and enjoy themselves, free of their troubles and safe from the biting cold outside. He had even asked some of the Keep's gnomish engineers to rig up a gramophone, which now livened the room with a light, cheerful tune. Kalec had pulled up a chair by the roaring fire, and was now chatting animatedly with Jaina, who had unabashedly taken a seat in his lap. The blonde archmage was surprisingly giggly, and Varian suspected that she had drunk more than her fair share of the rather alcoholic eggnog. That said, seeing her happy and carefree had been a rare sight of late, and he did not begrudge her letting her hair down in the slightest.

Anduin, Genn, and Tess had immediately settled down around the table to play a round of cards. They had offered for Auriana to join them, but she had instead decided to take a seat off to the side so that she could observe the game. Admittedly, there was very little _to_ watch, as there was soon far more laughing and excitable shouting than there was actual card playing, but Auriana seemed content to watch the others just the same. Much like Jaina, Anduin had clearly taken the opportunity to avail himself of the eggnog, though it had taken considerably less of the stuff to lower his inhibitions, than hers. Tess, especially, seemed to find his intoxication hilarious, and she egged him on at every turn.

Mia Greymane had not joined either group, and instead stood by the Winter Veil tree as she observed the proceeding with a warm, gentle smile. She was a tall, handsome woman, and she looked every inch the queen as she stood sipping her wine by the light of the fire. Varian had met Mia only a handful of times, given that she spent most of her days in Darnassus, but he had always been struck by her quick wit and regal demeanour. She was proud and passionate woman, as Gilneans tended to be, but her passion had always struck Varian as being cooler and more considered than her husband's. If Genn were the raging fire, then she was the smouldering embers; a slower burn, perhaps, but one no less dangerous. They were a complementary pair, the King and Queen of Gilneas, and more than that, Varian knew their marriage was one of love, and not merely one of politics.

"Mia," he acknowledged her warmly, as he came up to stand by her side. "I trust you've enjoyed your evening thus far?"

"Very much so. The night elves have been incredibly generous in their hospitality toward Tess and I, but I admit, it is good to be reunited with my husband once again," Mia smiled. "You will forgive us if Genn and I leave a little early tonight, yes?"

She gave him a sly, bawdy little wink, and Varian wondered if Jaina and Anduin were not the only two who had been enjoying the eggnog.

"I would never dream of standing between a wife and her husband," he assured her. "Especially not when it's so _cold_ outside."

To Mia's evident surprise, Varian returned her wink, and she let out a soft laugh of delight.

"You are a man of great honour then, King Varian. A toast to your good health," she replied, clinking her wine glass softly against his.

She glanced affectionately over towards her husband, before her clever gaze met Varian's once more.

"Quite a delicate little thing, isn't she, your archmage?" Mia remarked.

She nodded towards Auriana, who was smiling shyly as she watched Anduin and Tess gleefully flick playing cards at one another's heads across the table.

"I would advise not calling her 'delicate' to her face. You may find yourself on the receiving end of a well-placed fireball," Varian said, grinning wolfishly. "But… yes. She's very little."

"She seems to be handling things in Stormwind quite well."

"I think so, too, though I won't deny it's taken some… adjusting," Varian admitted.

"Well, it's a rather large change, isn't it?" Mia mused. "She's gone from being an anonymous commander to the consort of a king - quite literally overnight. It would be enough to give anyone pause."

Her expression was kind, and Varian suddenly realised that she was one of the few people in the world who might understand the position in which Auriana had so suddenly found herself. Mia had been a noblewoman since birth, of course, but it was another thing entirely to be the wife of a king.

"I… worry about her," Varian muttered.

"I can tell. You've hardly looked away from her all night," Mia noted, though it was clear that she did not disapprove.

"Perhaps, though that might have more to do with that dress anything else," Varian confessed, unable to stop himself from admiring the contrast between Auriana's silvery skin and the dark green of her dress, or the way the firelight caught her hair.

Mia let out another soft, charming laugh, and patted his arm with a motherly air.

"You've lead a very lonely life, Varian. It's nice to see that change," she said brightly. "Genn and I were very pleased to hear of your relationship. And I'm sure she'll get along just fine. From all accounts, she's brave, and clever… and she has you."

Varian nodded in acknowledgement of Mia's kind words, though they did not bring him as much comfort as he might have hoped. Auriana had been quiet for most of the evening, preferring to listen and watch than to contribute to the conversation more directly. Even now, she was simply a quiet observer to the gleeful, boisterous card fight going on between Anduin and Tess; the two young royals having completely abandoned any pretense of trying to play cards properly. Not that there was anything wrong with Auriana's silence, of course, but Varian worried it was symptomatic of a deeper issue. He frowned, wondering whether he should have an encouraging word with her, when she suddenly leaned forward in her chair and spoke.

"Do you want to see a magic trick?"

Anduin and Tess paused their frantic card battle, and they both turned to look curiously at Auriana.

"A magic trick?" Tess repeated, pulling a stray ace from her hair.

"Hold on, Auri, you're a mage! It's not a really a trick if you can use _actual magic_ ," Anduin huffed, with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

"I promise, I won't cheat," Auriana said seriously. "Besides, you would know if I had. These days, I light up like a Winter Veil tree if I even so much as _think_ about using my powers."

To emphasis her point, she called upon her magic, and her arms and eyes flashed briefly brilliant white.

"See? I am no longer a subtle mage."

"You were never a subtle mage, Auri," Jaina chimed in, smirking wickedly over the top of her glass as she took another sip of eggnog.

Auriana scowled, and Varian was forced to hide a smile behind his own drink as a wave of gentle laughter rippled around the room. Not everyone present had seen Auriana in action, but her reputation was both well known and well deserved.

"I won't cheat," she repeated firmly, turning her attention back to Anduin. "Does anyone have a coin?"

"I do, I think," he replied, and he quickly dug around in his pockets.

Auriana held out her right hand, and Anduin placed a gold coin firmly in the centre of her palm. Her lips quirked in mild amusement, and she kept her eyes firmly trained on the prince as she began to roll the coin back and forth across her knuckles with increasing speed. The dexterity and finesse with which she performed was undeniably impressive, and even Varian found himself being drawn in by her act. He had seen quite a few tricks in his lifetime, but he had never suspected that Auriana, of all people, would have had any particular interest in prestidigitation - especially when considering what she could do with _real_ magic.

"Keep your eyes on the coin," she instructed, grinning shyly. "If you're not watching closely, it might… disappear."

She suddenly flicked her wrist, and turned her palm forward towards Anduin to show him that the coin had vanished. He gasped in surprise, and reached forward to grab her hand so that he could see for himself that it was empty.

"That's easy. The coin is in your other hand," Tess said confidently, folding her arms across her chest with a satisfied smirk.

"Oh? Is that so?"

Auriana raised her left hand as requested, then turned both hands back and forth so that the entire room could see that the coin was nowhere to be found. Tess scowled slightly as she tried to figure out Auriana's trick, but Anduin was simply captivated. He clapped his hands excitedly; and so too, surprisingly, did Kalec.

"But where did it go?" the dragon demanded curiously. "You didn't use your magic! Even if you had somehow glamoured your scars, I would have felt you cast."

He seemed genuinely amazed, and Varian snorted in amusement. Evidently, sleight of hand was not a common pastime amongst the dragonflights, and Kalec's expression was simultaneously one of bafflement and delight. He was clever and well-educated, but no matter how mortal he may have looked in his current form, it seemed that there were still some aspects of the human experience that had entirely eluded him. Varian looked towards Jaina, and he could tell from the redness in her cheeks and the slight tremor in her shoulders that she was trying very hard not to laugh out loud.

"It's a mystery," Auriana murmured, her voice low and strangely hypnotic. "Sometimes in life, however - if you're _really_ lucky - the things that you thought you had lost… manage to find their way back home."

This time, she flicked her left wrist back, and the coin appeared out of nowhere to roll across the top of her knuckles once more. The movement of the coin was just as smooth on her left hand as it was on her right, and Varian couldn't help but to wonder how long she had practiced to be able to perform the skill ambidextrously.

" _How_?" Kalec repeated, thoroughly entranced. "It's magic, it has to be. Some kind of illusion charm, or perhaps a modification of a translocation spell…"

"There are many kinds of magic in this world," Auriana smiled, her eyes sparkling with good humour. "You, of all people, should know that better than most."

She flipped the coin high into the air, and watched it tumble end over end as it fell back towards her. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and she clapped her hands together at the last second to catch the coin between her palms. She paused, allowing the tension to build for a few long moments, before she pulled her hands apart with a graceful flourish to reveal that the coin had completely vanished once again. Anduin laughed in open admiration, and even Tess looked suitably impressed. Kalec, however, was more taken than anyone else, and his eyes lit up as he searched for any sign of the wayward coin.

"Bring it back!" he cried eagerly.

"I don't know if I can," Auriana grinned teasingly. "The coin goes where it pleases, you see... but wait… what is that?"

She rose to her feet and walked the few steps across the room towards the dragon, her forehead creased in an expression of mock concern. Kalec leaned forward in anticipation, almost knocking Jaina off his lap as he did, and his eyes widened in curiosity as Auriana reached over to brush a lock of his blue hair back behind his ear. Her fingers lingered for the briefest second, and when she pulled back, the shining gold coin was pinned triumphantly between her middle and index fingers.

Kalec was the first to applaud, but this time the entire room joined in as Auriana accepted his approval with a small, graceful curtsy. Anduin's eyes were as wide as saucers, though that may have had more to do with the amount of eggnog he had consumed than Auriana's trick.

"Bravo, my girl!" Genn said, lifting his brandy glass high in the air. "Very clever."

"Really, though," Tess asked excitedly, "Where did you learn to do that?"

"My father taught me," Auriana explained shyly, suddenly very aware that all eyes were on her. "I spent my summers on his ship as a child. His crew were… interesting fellows, to say the least, and they taught me all sort of tricks with coins and cards. Mostly because they thought it was funny to take me into taverns, and have me use my skills to swindle other sailors out of their money."

Varian chuckled as he pictured Auriana as a tiny child, taking drunken mariners for all they were worth. It was an amusing image, and he was evidently not the only one who thought so, as Anduin, Genn and Tess all roared with laughter.

"Your _father_ taught you how to _hustle sailors_?" Anduin exclaimed.

"Not his… ah… _finest_ … parenting moment, I'll admit," Auriana said wryly. "But it was… fun."

Her face grew slightly wistful at the mention of her late father, but the expression was so fleeting that Varian doubted anyone else would have noticed.

"Here," she said kindly, placing the coin in Kalec's hand and carefully folding his fingers up around the cool metal. "A magical coin, for a master of magic. Happy Winter Veil."

"Thank you, Auriana."

Kalec accepted the coin with an air of great reverence, and he immediately turned to show off his prize to Jaina. She listened patiently as he spoke, her eyes warm and soft with affection as the dragon enthusiastically detailed a number of wildly complex and improbable magical theories to explain what he had just seen.

Anduin also seemed determined to figure out Auriana's secret, and he pulled a second coin from his pocket so that he and Tess might make their own attempts at replicating the trick. Mia came to join her daughter and her husband, smiling brightly as she and Genn chimed in with a few suggestions of their own, and soon the entire table was caught up in a lively but amiable debate. Tess clearly loved a good argument, while Anduin was now so tipsy that he had become unusually loud and energetic.

Varian didn't mind, of course, and in actual fact was pleased to see his son in such high spirits. He watched the small group argue for a few minutes, before he turned away with a small smile, and went to pour himself another drink. His sense of satisfaction was short lived, however, as he turned back to the small group to see that Auriana had vanished. He frowned, wondering how Auriana had managed to slip out of the room unnoticed, when a slight movement from Mia caught his eye. The Queen of Gilneas smiled enigmatically, as if reading his mind, and she subtly tilted her head towards the balcony.

Varian silently nodded his thanks as he made his way across the room, when he was struck by a stroke of sudden inspiration. He paused by one of the large wreaths that decorated his walls and broke off a sprig of mistletoe to tuck into his pocket, before he stepped outside into the bracing night air.

Auriana was leaning up against the balustrade, her slender arms wrapped around her body against the chill. Her dark hair was lightly dusted with snowflakes, and she looked as pale and as beautiful as she had when Varian had approached her in the gardens that first Winter Veil. This time, however, he did not hesitate to slide his arms around her the soft curve of her waist. He pulled her firmly against the warmth of his body, and rested his chin affectionately on the top of her head.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine, I just… needed some air," Auriana assured him, though he caught the slightest note of melancholy in her voice.

"I could leave, if you would prefer?"

"No. Please stay," she whispered, leaning back into his embrace and gently entwining her fingers with his. "I like having you close."

"I like _being_ close," he murmured, and he leaned forward so that he might place a lingering kiss against her dark hair.

Varian felt vaguely self-conscious, showing his affection for Auriana so plainly when the others were so close by, though he certainly had no desire to let her go. Below them, the cheerful lights of Stormwind twinkled in the darkness, and he could distantly hear carollers singing songs of winter cheer. It was a beautiful, joyful scene, made even more so by the beautiful woman in his arms, and Varian felt an unfamiliar sense of peace and contentment wash over him.

They stood silently for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts, when their quiet moment was interrupted by a sudden peal of bright, lively music from the gramophone. Bemused, Varian looked back over his shoulder toward the shining lights of his parlour, and was thoroughly surprised to see _Anduin_ now standing atop the table, dancing a jig like his life depended on it, as the others clapped and cheered him on. Tess' idea, no doubt, though Anduin did not seem to have been coerced in any way. The jig itself was not especially well choreographed, though Varian supposed he had to give the boy points for enthusiasm.

"What in the world…" he growled.

"Your son appears to be a little drunk," Auriana observed lightly, turning her head to follow his line of sight.

"Evidently."

Varian sighed.

"He's only had two eggnogs, Auri. I counted…"

He felt Auriana's body tremble against his as a burst of laughter took her, and she shook her head.

"So he can't hold his liquor. At least he's having fun...?" she suggested lightly, as she turned to look back out over the city once more. "I mean, better here than in a tavern in the Dwarven District. You'd never get him back..."

Auriana snorted in wry amusement, and even Varian couldn't help but to bark out a short chuckle. She was right, he thought, Anduin _did_ deserve a little fun. They all did, really. It had been a long year for everyone, what with the war on Draenor and the looming threat of the Legion, and he supposed he could not begrudge Anduin a drunken jig of celebration. After all, what were they fighting _for_ , if not for the little moments of joy and laughter that made all the suffering worthwhile?

"What about you, then?" he asked, gently stroking the curve of her stomach with his thumb. "Are you having fun?"

"Yes, of course," she said quickly. "It's been a wonderful evening. Thank you for inviting me."

"I was worried, you know," he confessed. "It's hard to tell with you, sometimes. You've been quiet."

"I know," she sighed. "I'm sorry."

Varian felt her body tense anxiously beneath his hands, and he immediately regretted raising the issue.

"Don't be sorry," he insisted firmly. "I know your life has been turned upside down these last few weeks."

"It isn't that," she said quietly. "I mean, I won't deny that it has been a somewhat... _interesting_ experience, suddenly being the talk of Stormwind, but…

"That's not what's upsetting you," Varian finished.

Auriana nodded slightly, and she pulled his arms even tighter around her waist. Varian did not press, instead allowing her the time to gather her thoughts. She often struggled to articulate her feelings, and he did not want to discourage her from talking to him when she was still only just learning to open up.

"It's too... quiet."

It was somewhat of an odd comment, given the upbeat tune now blaring from the gramophone behind them, though Varian began to suspect that he knew what is was that concerned her.

"There's no... artillery," she continued quietly. "No patrols passing through at every hour of the night. No soldiers, no fighting… no bombs, no Legion… no one trying to kill me every time I step outside my door… it _bothers_ me, and I have no idea _why_. It doesn't make any sense."

She sighed sadly, and her shoulders slumped forward in shame.

"Is… is there something wrong with me?"

"No," Varian said quickly. "No, Auri… not at all."

He grasped her gently by the hips, and turned her around so that they were now standing face to face. He slid one hand along the line of her jaw, and turned her chin upwards so that he could look her in the eye.

"After I returned to Stormwind from my time in the Crimson Ring… I experienced something very similar," he confessed. "I was so used to living every day as if it might be my last, that Stormwind seemed… slow. Boring, even."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Really. War is… addictive, I think, in a way. The rush… the urgency… the _thrill_ of living on the edge… it can consume you."

It was not something he had ever discussed with anyone else, even Broll, but talking to Auriana was different. She needed to know that she was not alone, and in a strange way, Varian also found it cathartic to acknowledge the restlessness that dwelt deep within his own heart.

"How long did it take for you to stop feeling that way?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"A long time," he admitted. "Part of me… part of me will always crave that life, I think, but… it gets easier. I promise."

"Was there anything that helped?"

Varian glanced back inside, to where Anduin was now dancing an awkward, enthusiastic quickstep with an equally uncoordinated and enthusiastic Jaina, and he couldn't help but to smile.

"I realised that being a good father to my son… being a good king for my people… was more important to me than any thrill," he murmured.

Auriana considered his words seriously, turning around to look back out over the city as she did. Varian had been so overjoyed to have her back in Stormwind that he had somewhat failed to remember that she had been fighting a war not even a month ago. He had been so focused on helping her to adjust to life as a noblewoman that he hadn't really considered how she might have felt about the end of a long war, and his stomach twisted with guilt at the thought.

"It just… takes time," he reminded her gently. "And I will be with you, every step of the way."

"I suppose I could have it worse," she agreed, leaning back to rest her head against his chest. "Stormwind may be 'too quiet', but it _is_ beautiful."

"Not nearly as beautiful as you," Varian growled.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and placed a tender kiss on the top of her left ear.

"There is nothing wrong with you," he repeated firmly. "You're just perfect, Auri."

He had meant to be comforting, but if anything, his words seemed to have broken something within her, and her shoulders began to shake ever so slightly beneath his hands. Concerned, he turned her back to face him once more, and frowned to see her eyes swimming with unshed tears. He absolutely hated to see her cry, even more so when he suspected that he might be responsible, and he prayed that he had not inadvertently said the wrong thing.

"Auri…?"

"Dammit. I'm sorry. As you said, it's been a long year," she muttered, ducking her head so that she might wipe away her tears. "And then… tonight. It's been a long time since I've a Winter's Veil like this. With affection, and joy, and… well… friends."

She placed a small, tremulous hand against his chest, and Varian reached out uncertainly to take it in his own. Her words had suggested that she was happy, but he could not reconcile them with the tears in her eyes.

"No need to look so worried," she added hurriedly. "I have never been happier than I am with you. I'm just… overwhelmed, I suppose. I've been lonely for a very long time, and then you give me… all this..."

Auriana gestured to the parlour, and the laughter and warmth contained therein.

"Not something I'm used to. That doesn't make it a bad thing."

"I understand," Varian said, nodding. "And I promise, you will never spend another Winter Veil alone."

He reached into his pockets for the mistletoe, and lifted the small sprig up above her head. Auriana looked up, surprised, only for a small, slow smile to spread across her features as she realised where they were now standing. She didn't have to say a word, but he knew she was remembering the last time they had stood under mistletoe together, when he had kissed her for the first time. Even now, Varian could not have said precisely what it was that had possessed him to take that impossible, heart-stopping step, but he thanked the Light every day that he had. He slid his hands into Auriana's hair, and kissed her with all the fierce, uninhibited passion that he wished he had given her that very first time.

"Happy Winter Veil, Varian..." Auriana whispered, her breath sending small white clouds of vapor misting through the frosty air.

She pulled away, breathless, though the warmth of her lips lingered on his as they cradled one another close beneath the gently falling snow. She was achingly beautiful, he thought, shining and ethereal beneath the winter moon, and Varian had never been more thankful that she was _his._

He smiled.

"Happy Winter Veil, Auriana..."

 


	2. Tart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Varian attempts to compose poetry. Set a little bit after the end of 'Lion's Triumph'; the first time Auriana and Varian ever celebrated Azeroth's most awkwardly named holiday. A happy Love is in the Air to all!

Varian sat alone in his study, tapping his quill idly against a piece of parchment as he struggled to think of the right words. Today was the first day of the annual Love is in the Air festival, and he had decided to compose some poetry for Auriana in honour of the occasion. They had not talked about celebrating the holiday, though seeing the entire city decked out in pink and red - not to mention the wreaths and decorations all around Stormwind Keep itself - had made Varian wonder whether he ought to make an effort. Certainly, listening to the maids and noblewomen gossip around the Keep had done much to convince him of the importance the event might hold, and he had solemnly resolved that Auriana would not be the only woman in Stormwind left disappointed.

The festival had never been his favourite holiday, largely because it had only ever really served to remind him of how lonely he truly was, but with Auriana in his life he had come to view it somewhat less cynically. He had initially thought to get her flowers, or even just a simple card, but in the end he had decided that poetry written from his own hand was a much more personal and intimate way of expressing his regard.

Unfortunately, it was a choice he now intensely regretted, as he stared down at the decidedly uncooperative piece of paper resting on the desk before him. He hadn't supposed that composing a few lines of poetry would be  _easy,_  precisely, but nor did he suspect that it would be this hard, either. His mind all of a sudden felt sluggish and wooden, and he was so deep in thought that he completely failed to notice when Anduin quietly entered the room and marched right up to his desk.

"Father? Hello?" the prince called, waving a hand in front of Varian's face to get his attention. " _Hello_?"

"Anduin!" Varian exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you'd come in."

He placed his quill down on the table, and pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve some of the tension that had been building behind his eyes.

"Are you alright?" Anduin asked, his brow furrowing in concern. "You were scowling at that piece of parchment like it had personally insulted you. What are you writing?"

"Just… something difficult," Varian said dismissively. "Not to worry, I'm sure I'll have it finished in no time."

He tried his best to seem casual, only to belatedly realise that Anduin was far too curious and perceptive to be thrown off by such an evasive answer. Too late, he made to hide the parchment beneath another blank piece, but his son was already moving.

"No, Anduin, don't…!"

Anduin snatched the piece of paper with unusual speed and dexterity, darting out of the reach before Varian could even raise a hand stop him. He danced several steps backwards as Varian lunged to his feet, and his bright blue eyes sparkled with sly amusement as he began to read.

"Father… is this... are you writing  _poetry_?" he guffawed. "What on earth has come over you?"

"It's… romantic," Varian grunted, gesturing vaguely to the wreath of hearts a maid had placed above his study door. "Isn't that what people do at this time of year?"

"People, yes. You, no," Anduin grinned. "For Auri, I assume?"

"Of course for  _her_ ," Varian said, scowling. "You didn't think you'd find me up here writing poetry for Genn, did you?"

"I didn't think to find you writing poetry for anyone," Anduin smirked, looking far too delighted to have caught his father in the midst of such an uncharacteristic act.

Varian sighed, and tugged irritably at the tail of his long hair.

"Well… since you're here, you may as well be useful," he grumbled. "What do you think?"

Anduin raised an eyebrow, though he nevertheless continued to read through the rest of Varian's hasty scrawl. Much to Varian's dismay, however, the broad smile on Anduin's face slowly faded away the further he read, and his expression soon become one of mildly bemused concern.

"Well?" Varian prompted.

"It's… er… very… unique…" Anduin coughed, all of a sudden unable to look his father in the eye.

"Unique?" Varian repeated. "Is unique... good?"

"Ah… well… sometimes, I suppose. But in this case… no. For example: 'you are fiery, like the forge fires in the forges of Ironforge'," Anduin quoted flatly. "I don't know, Father, I think if you worked really hard you could get one more 'forge' in there..."

"That's just the first draft!" Varian protested vehemently, the back of his neck burning hot with embarrassment. "I'm still working on that line…"

"Alright…" Anduin said slowly. "What about this bit, then? ''Your hair shines like the rump of a well-groomed horse. It is pretty, and long, and not at all coarse.'"

He looked up from the parchment with a disbelieving frown, and firmly shook his head.

"Father. You  _cannot_ say that to a woman. I mean, it rhymes, at least, but…"

"Why not?" Varian argued. "Plenty of women like horses! Auriana certainly does."

"Not so much so that they want to be compared to a horse's arse!" Anduin spluttered.

He touched a hand to his temples, as if Varian's poor poetry had actually given him a headache, and he seemed to be struggling to understand just what Varian had been thinking when he had put such words to paper.

"I don't understand…" Anduin lamented. "I've read some of your speeches, they're clever, and stirring, and passionate… I  _know_ you can write, if you have to."

"This is… different," Varian grumbled, though it was difficult to explain why he found writing poetry so much harder than writing anything else.

Admittedly, he  _was_ practiced at writing speeches and reports; but he had never once attempted to compose a romantic poem, not even when he had been married to Tiffin, and it had apparently proven to be a task that was beyond him. He sighed.

"It's bad, isn't it?"

"The worst," Anduin confirmed. "Look, this bit just says 'you are a mage'. That's not even poetic, that's just a factual statement."

"I was going to take that bit out," Varian huffed. "It's hard to find a good rhyme for 'mage'."

"I'm no expert, but I think poetry is supposed to involve a little bit more than just… rhyming facts…" Anduin pointed out.

"Bah. Give that here," Varian snapped, stepping around his desk to snatch the offending parchment from his son's fingertips.

"If you present that to Auri, she's going to leave you," Anduin said, with a playful wince. "And I can't say I would blame her..."

"Alright!" Varian shouted, crumpling up the parchment and lobbing it over his shoulder and into the fire. "Happy?"

"Much better!" Anduin said brightly.

He turned and flopped down onto Varian's chaise with a broad grin, and settled back against the cushions with his arms held casually behind his head.

"You're staying, then, are you?" Varian scowled. "Do you intend to make yourself useful, or are you just going to sit there laughing at me?"

"I've already helped you enormously, believe me," Anduin argued, smirking, "But… yes. If this is important to you… I want to help."

Varian grunted, and reluctantly sat back down in his comfortable leather chair. It felt somewhat strange to be asking his adolescent son for advice, but then again, Anduin was far more of a socially gifted creature than Varian himself.

"What do you think I should do, then?"

"Well, there are plenty of options at this time of year. Champagne and candies and flowers are traditional, of course, as are… um… lacy things..." Anduin suggested.

It was now Varian's turn to raise an eyebrow, and he leaned forward to fix Anduin with his most penetrating stare.

"How do you know about things like  _that_?" he asked, tenting his fingers. "Is there something you need to tell me, son?"

"No! I've just... seen the stalls around the city," Anduin explained, his cheeks flushing brilliant vermillion. "They're kind of hard to miss."

"Hmm," Varian mused, taking a few seconds to enjoy the way Anduin squirmed under his skeptical gaze. "Unfortunately, I think if I were to purchase something like that for Auriana, she'd run a thousand miles."

Privately, Varian would have loved to see Auriana in something sheer and lacy, though he doubted she would ever feel confident enough in her body to wear anything so risque. As far as she had come, she was still painfully shy in some ways, and while Varian would never dream of pushing her to do something she found uncomfortable, he often wished she could understand just how desirable he truly found her.

"Good point," Anduin conceded. "So perhaps not something traditional, but still personal…"

"Well, I was trying to do something personal, until it was pointed out to me that I should not present my poetry to her under any circumstances," Varian growled.

He gestured roughly towards the fire, where what remained of the offending parchment was now smouldering away, and Anduin chuckled.

"Personal is good. Just… not poetry. Ever," he agreed. "What else might she like? What does she enjoy?"

"She likes… ah... killing demons," Varian mused. "Maybe I could take her on some sort of a demon hunt?"

He looked over at Anduin hopefully, but the prince was not impressed.

"Light… birds of a feather, you two… no, Father. Not that," Anduin said firmly. "What do she like  _aside_  from killing things? What does she like to eat? Does she like chocolate, for example?"

"Yes," Varian said slowly, "But it's not her favourite."

"Then what is?"

Varian considered the question thoughtfully.

"Raspberry tarts," he concluded, picturing Auriana's delighted grin as she licked cream from her fingers. "Though it seems a bit impersonal to simply have the cooks prepare a dessert for her, I've done that any number of times."

"So  _make_ it personal. Bake the tart yourself," Anduin suggested.

He beamed with sudden inspiration, though Varian was far more skeptical.

"You want me to… cook?" Varian asked. "You do understand that I've never baked  _anything_  in my life?"

"It's got nothing to do with the tart itself, Father," Anduin explained patiently. "It's the effort; showing that you care about her enough to go out of your way. She'll love it, trust me."

Varian leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, staring down at his son with a slight scowl.

"Since when have you been such an expert on the desires of women?"

"I don't know, I just… read a lot, I suppose," Anduin said, shrugging.

"Wait - you're getting this all from a  _book_?" Varian scoffed, throwing his hands up. "Light, I'm doomed. Well, I suppose it was nice while it lasted…."

He ducked his head and rubbed a weary hand across his eyes, vaguely wondering when women had become so complicated. Varian couldn't recall having this kind of trouble as a younger man, though the more he thought about it, he realised that he may have been completely oblivious, and Tiffin simply very patient. Romance certainly did not come easily to him, and while he wasn't entirely sure whether Auriana even cared for such gestures, he would rather make the effort unnecessarily, than discover later that she had been hurt by his inattention.

"Father?"

Varian ran a hand back through his unruly hair as he looked up, and was surprised to see Anduin scrutinising him with great intensity.

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering… as amusing as this is for  _me_ \- why are you putting so much pressure on yourself over a silly holiday?" he asked gently.

"I don't know. I suppose… Auri… she's… special," Varian muttered. "I'm not all that good with putting my feelings into words - clearly - and sometimes I'm not sure she knows just how much she means to me."

Anduin nodded.

"I understand," he said, "Though for what it's worth… I'm fairly sure she knows."

"You really think so?"

"You may not be the most verbally expressive person, but there are some things even  _you_ cannot hide," Anduin assured him confidently. "Like the way you light up whenever Auri walks into a room. Or the way you sneak glances at her when you think no one is looking. You're not particularly subtle when it comes to the way you feel about her."

Varian snorted, somewhat embarrassed that his son could see through him so clearly, though it  _was_  admittedly comforting to know that he may not have been as deficient a partner as he feared. Still, he could not shake the desire to do  _something_  for Auriana; to further impress on her the depths of his love for her, and to make her feel valued and special.

"So. You really think I ought to make this tart for her?" he asked.

"Unless you have a better idea?" Anduin said, arching a skeptical golden brow.

Varian glanced down at the blank piece parchment staring up at him from his desk, and blanched as he considered spending another few hours writing terrible poetry.

"I've got nothing," he sighed. "Let's do it."

* * *

What followed one was one of the most frustrating and uncomfortable hours of Varian's life. As it turned out, baking tarts required delicacy and patience; two traits for which Varian was not exactly  _known_. The Keep's head cook and his staff were thoroughly baffled by the sudden presence of the King of Stormwind in their kitchen, though the cook had been more than willing to comply with Varian's request for help. Varian had chosen  _not_ to explain why he was suddenly so interested in the culinary arts, and wisely, no one dared enquire further. He supposed it was somewhat fortunate that he already had a reputation for being a temperamental and unconventional king, and that his unexpected desire to bake could be written off as yet another one of his eccentricities.

While the kitchen staff had the good sense to keep their thoughts to themselves, however, Anduin was not quite so discreet. He took a seat on one of the kitchen benches, munching on an apple and happily teasing Varian as he growled and fumbled his way through the baking process under the careful tutelage of the very patient cook.

By the end, he was a mess, his dark tunic covered in flour and clumps of leftover dough; though he had at the very least managed to produce a single successful raspberry tart. It was a bit rough to look at, not at all as perfectly shaped as the ones Auriana might typically eat, but it was  _his_ , and he felt a faint sense of pride in having challenged himself to do something new.

Even Anduin seemed rather impressed that Varian had managed to produce  _anything_ at all, and he gave his father an approving nod as Varian carefully placed his creation in a small white pastry box and tied it off with some twine. It was not the most imaginative wrapping, perhaps, but it would have to do. Judging from the rapidly fading light in the kitchen, Auriana would be home any time now, and Varian wanted to ensure he was cleaned up before she arrived. He offered both Anduin and the kitchen staff a gruff but grateful nod of thanks, before hurrying back up to his bedchambers with the prized tart clutched firmly between his hands.

As it turned out, he had left the kitchens at exactly the right time, as Auriana returned to Stormwind just as twilight fell. She typically spent most of her daylight hours in Dalaran, though her evenings belonged to Varian, and Varian alone. Tonight, he emerged from his quick ablutions in his bathchamber to find her standing alone on his balcony, staring out over the city of Stormwind as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. The fading light danced across her pale skin, turning it alternately violet, rose, and gold, and for a moment Varian simply stood in silence to admire the woman he loved.

"I know you're there…" Auriana said suddenly, interrupting his admiring reverie.

"Impressive. I didn't make a sound," he smirked.

She turned and gave him a withering stare, though her eyes sparkled with warmth and good humour.

"I wouldn't have been able to hear you even if you did," she pointed out, tapping her bad left ear.

"Then how?"

"It's a secret," she replied, her lips quirking upwards in an enigmatic grin.

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Auriana eventually decided to break the affectionate impasse. She came willingly into Varian's arms, tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder and letting out a small sigh of satisfaction. He, too, loved holding her in his arms for the first time each day, and he spent several long minutes simply breathing in the wildflower scent of her hair, before he finally decided to break the silence.

"Do you know what today is?" he murmured, brushing his lips against the top of her head.

"No?"

Auriana leaned back so that she could look him in the eye, and she frowned.

"Have I forgotten something?"

It was so typical of Auriana that she was a bit oblivious to anything that wasn't of immediate importance, and Varian found himself fighting back a wry grin.

"Nothing critical, don't worry," he assured her. "It's the first day of Love is in the Air. I just thought it might be nice to… celebrate."

"Oh! I'd completely forgotten," Auriana admitted. "They were just putting up the decorations in Dalaran as I left; I did wonder why everything was so pink…"

"Yes, well," Varian continued quickly, "I brought you a present. Come, let me show you."

Varian's heart beat ever so slightly faster as he guided Auriana back into the warmth of his bedchambers, and reached for the package he had left hidden beneath his cloak on the edge of the bed. His fingers shook ever so slightly as they closed around the little box, and for moment he very seriously considered abandoning his plan altogether, in the event she found his gesture laughably inadequate - or worse.

_You are a king,_ he reminded himself sternly.  _Not some lovesick boy._

He cleared his throat, and thrust the box rather forcefully into Auriana's hands.

"For you," he said gruffly, pulling at the corner of his collar. "I made it."

Auriana's eyes widened ever so slightly as she accepted the proffered gift, though she still seemed faintly confused as to why he had gone to the trouble of getting her a present in the first place. Her pale fingers quickly slipped the twine and she opened the box, revealing the slightly misshapen tart nestled within. She let out a soft gasp, and it was some time before she managed to speak.

"I don't understand. You… baked this? For me?" she asked finally. "You…  _bake_?"

She appeared completely dumbfounded by his gesture, blinking down at the tart as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. Her expression otherwise gave nothing away, and Varian felt his chest tighten in concern.

"Is that… I mean, I know it isn't… do you like it?"

Auriana's face abruptly split into a beaming smile; so wide and bright that it seemed to light up the entire room. She threw her arms around his neck, being very careful not to drop or crush the small pastry box, and she pressed a fierce, grateful kiss against his cheek.

"Er… is that a yes?" Varian pressed, somewhat unable to believe that such a simple gesture on his behalf had produced such an overwhelmingly positive response.

_Handmade tarts,_  he thought drily.  _Who knew?_

"It's most definitely a yes," she said.

Varian watched Auriana closely as she stepped back and took a large, eager bite of the tart; hoping she would find  _his_ attempt just as delicious as any she had eaten before.

"Oh…" she gasped.

A very strange expression crossed Auriana's face, and the pastry box tumbled to the bed as she clapped a hand over her mouth. Varian reached for her arm, confused, but she pulled away from him and fled for the bathchamber, her skirts flaring around her ankles as she ran. A moment later, Varian heard a quiet, choking cough as she began to gag, and his heart fell.

_Oh, Light, I've poisoned her,_ he thought flatly, running both hands through his hair.  _Wonderful..._

Varian began to pace back and forth as Auriana continued to retch, growing more concerned with each passing second. He hated to even think of her unwell, and he felt even worse to know that he was the cause. He was certain that he had followed the cook's instructions to the letter, though judging by Auriana's reaction, he had failed rather spectacularly.

When she eventually emerged to stand by his side, she looked queasy and a little pale, though she managed to give him a small, shaky smile.

"Varian… um… did you... by any chance... confuse sugar for salt?" she asked, biting her lip in gentle concern.

"What?"

She nodded towards the tart.

"Try it."

Varian frowned as he reached for the pastry, and slowly took a bite of his own. Almost immediately, his mouth was flooded with the overwhelming taste of  _salt_ ; so much so that it drowned out all but the slightest hint of sweetness from the raspberries and the cream filling.

"Oh, bloody hell, that's awful," he choked, hastily spitting his mouthful back into the box.

He glanced up at Auriana, mortified, and saw that her shoulders were nowshaking with barely contained laughter. Her lips were still puckered slightly from the overwhelming taste of salt, though curiously she did not seem to be unhappy or disappointed. Varian, however, felt awful - not least because all he could taste was his singularly disgusting tart.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, rolling his tongue around in his mouth as he tried to get rid of the lingering flavour. "I wanted to do something special for you, and..."

"No," Auriana said quickly, cutting him off with a short shake of her head. "No, please… please don't be sorry."

"I should have brought you chocolate, or flowers, or one of those Festival charm bracelets that are so popular in the city…" he said ruefully.

Varian unceremoniously dumped the remains of his failed tart back on the nightstand, and pulled his knees up so that he was sitting on his bed in a loose, near cross-legged sprawl. He leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes, half expecting to hear the door slam as Auriana left, when he suddenly felt the mattress beneath him shift as it took her weight.

He opened his eyes, surprised, though he did not object as Auriana crawled forward into his lap and positioned herself so that she could look him in the eye. She took his weathered face gently in her hands, and stroked his cheeks with far more tenderness and care than Varian felt he deserved.

"It's perfect," she whispered. "Thank you."

"But… I ruined it. It's not so much a tart, as a tart shaped mound of salt," he argued, gesturing to the sad little box on his nightstand.

"Varian… that isn't the point."

Auriana leaned forward and kissed him with exquisite slowness, pressing her body hard against the warmth of his chest and allowing her hands to tangle in his hair. He could taste the lingering tang of salt on her lips, though it did nothing to dull the sweetness of her kiss. Varian  _was_  rather confused by the warmth of her response to his fumbling attempt at romance, but it seemed that Anduin might have been on to something after all.

"I don't need  _things_ ," Auriana murmured, her breath hitching as she finally pulled away. "I mean, chocolates and flowers, they're lovely, but… all I really want is… you."

Her words were quiet and earnest, and Varian found himself cradling her closer despite his concerns.

"I only thought… it's the first Love is in the Air Festival we've ever spent together, and I wanted it to be special…" he rumbled, leaning forward to rest his forehead on hers.

"This is the first Festival I've spent with  _anyone_ ," Auriana countered gently. "It's already special. It's  _you_."

She smiled and bit her lower lip, a gentle blush spreading across her alabaster cheeks.

"It scares me, sometimes, you know; how much I love you…"

It was rare to hear Auriana speak about her feelings so openly, though Varian was unsurprised to learn that she found the strength of her love for him somewhat frightening. It was also not something he could fault her for, given that the more he thought about it, he realised she scared him more than anything else on Azeroth. He was terribly afraid of losing her; afraid that he could never be the man she needed and deserved; afraid that he loved her far more than she loved him… and yet the simple act holding her in his arms made each and every one of those fears seem absolutely worthwhile.

"Do you want to know something?" he whispered roughly. "It scares me, too."

Auriana's eyes widened at his quiet confession, though she didn't immediately reply. Instead, she stared into his eyes for a long time, gently tracing her fingers along the line of his facial scars. Her expression was soft, and she looked so beautiful and loving that it made Varian's heart ache just to look up on her.

"How about I make you a deal?" she suggested finally, her voice low and serious.

"Oh?"

"Tonight, my brave King, you can have me for as long as you like, any way you want me… so long as you promise that you will never cook for me  _ever_ again."

Auriana's eyes darkened with desire as she spoke, and she shifted her weight in his lap in such a way that made her intentions abundantly clear. Varian coughed, surprised to find her so amorous after he had inadvertently tried to give her salt poisoning, but he was hardly going to argue with such an eloquent and heartfelt request.

Instead, he pretended to consider the question seriously, giving the suggestion as much thought and gravitas as he would have given any other diplomatic offer. He would  _not_ , however, have treated any ambassador or diplomat with the care he now showed Auriana, laying her down and rolling her over so that she lay pinned beneath him. He pushed her dress aside, and stared deep into her dusky blue eyes as he slid hands up her bare, creamy thigh. She shivered at his touch, her breath quickening, and a slow, eager smile spread across her face.

"Hmm," Varian growled huskily, grazing the soft skin of her neck with his teeth. "Stormwind accepts your offer…"


	3. Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on responding to some writing prompts on Tumblr lately, and I thought I would post the finished shorts here!
> 
> This particular piece was written in response to the sentence prompt "I'm pregnant" for Varian and Auriana, sent in by the lovely Vithralith. Set roughly a month after Chapter 8/9 of 'Lion's Challenge'.

Varian slid backwards in the dirt, his eyes narrowed and his muscles taut as he carefully considered his opponent. Across the arena, Auriana eyed him with a similar intensity, her movements precise and vigilant as she waited for him to charge. Varian had drilled her hard on her sword forms all morning, and had now decided to test her progress with a friendly duel.

They had already traded a few preliminary blows, and were now circling one another warily as they prepared to re-engage. What Auriana lacked in physicality, she more than made up for in battle sense, and Varian was immensely proud of how well she taken to the blade. Today, however she seemed unusually sluggish, and she was slow to react as Varian suddenly leapt at her with his wooden practice sword raised for a powerful overhead strike.

Auriana managed to turn the blow, if only barely, and she kicked up a spray of dirt as she to spun to the side. Varian did not give her much of a chance to recover, aiming a lightning fast thrust at her right side. Auriana twisted her blade down to parry the blow, but once again Varian noted that her response was not as quick as he would have expected. Good enough to beat an average swordsman, perhaps, but not good enough to beat the King.

Varian watched Auriana closely as they fell a fast-paced, rhythmic dance; testing her balance with a series of swift, precise strikes. He was pleased to note the quality of her form, though her movements grew steadily more sluggish, and after a few minutes fighting, she forcefully disengaged and staggered back several feet across the arena. She was breathing heavily, and she suddenly doubled over at the waist as she fought to catch her breath.

It was strange to see her so out of sorts, and Varian was instantly concerned. While she would never be his equal in size or strength, she never usually had any problems matching him for stamina.

“Are you alright?” he called, lifting his sword above his head to indicate a pause in the duel.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she replied quickly, standing up to her full height and waving him off with a flick of her wrist. “Khadgar and I were working very hard this week. You know what kind of toll magic can take, I’m probably just a bit run down. Maybe I’m getting sick, too, or… I don’t know…”

She snorted.

“I’m pregnant.”

Varian saw Auriana’s lips move as she made to add something else, but he could no longer focus on a word she was saying. A dull roar sounded in his ears, and he felt as discombobulated as if someone had hit hard on the side of the head. A child? With  _her_? His heart leapt with joy and excitement - and not a small bit of terror - when he abruptly realised that he had spent the better part of the morning slashing at Auriana with a wooden sword and throwing her bodily into the dirt.

“What the hell are you thinking?!” he demanded, his stomach twisting with fear and guilt. “You shouldn’t be out here, wrestling around with me!”

He threw his weapon into the ground, point first, and descended upon her in a storm of anxiety.

“Varian…”

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you? Light, Auriana, talk to me. Are you well?”

“Well, I’m trying to, Varian, but…”

“You look a little pale, are you feeling faint?” he asked worriedly, his eyes raking over her from head to toe.

Had she always been that skinny? Should she have already begun showing? It had been so long since Tiffin had been pregnant with Anduin that Varian honestly couldn’t remember…

“Are you eating enough? I noticed you didn’t finish your dinner last night,” he growled.

“Please, just stop for a second and listen…”

“You shouldn’t be standing out in the sun,” he resolved firmly. “We should get you back to the Keep, perhaps you ought to lie down…”

“Varian!”

Varian cut off abruptly as he felt something in his catch in his throat, and he clapped a hand to his neck. It felt as if there were a ball of air trapped somewhere in his windpipe, and try he might, he could not make a sound. It was then that he noticed that Auriana’s hands and eyes were ablaze with power, and he realised that she must have used her magic to somehow render him silent.

“Varian,” she repeated softly. “Can I talk now?”

He nodded mutely, and a moment later he felt the pressure in his throat release as Auriana cancelled her spell. The glow about her eyes and hands faded, and she folded her arms uncomfortably across her chest.

“I… that was… supposed to be a joke.”

She winced.

“A very…  _very_ … bad joke,” she added, looking stricken. “I’m so sorry…”

Varian frowned, and his heartbeat slowed to a crawl. He was suddenly very conscious of the fact that they were still standing in the middle of the arena, and there were most certainly several soldiers and guardsmen who had noticed his outburst.

“So. You’re not… are you?”

“No,” Auriana said simply, with a firm shake of her head.

“Are you sure?” Varian pressed. “You  _have_ been unusually tired of late…”

“About as sure as I can be,” she confirmed.

“Oh.”

Varian pulled irritably at the long tail of his hair, though his annoyance was not directed at Auriana. Rather, he was ashamed of his own frantic reaction, and the way he had barely even stopped for a second to listen to her speak.

_Why would she even want to bear your children,_  a nasty voice in the back of his mind whispered,  _When your first instinct upon hearing the news is to shout at her?_

“Varian…”

“It’s fine,” he said gruffly.

“No, it’s not…” Auriana murmured, her blue eyes soft. “It was a thoughtless comment, and I apologise.”

She glanced pointedly downwards, and Varian followed her gaze to see his own hand splayed protectively across the taut muscles of her lower stomach. He hadn’t even remembered reaching for her. He stepped away.

“Sorry,” he grunted, the back of his neck going hot.

Auriana bit her lip, and she looked incredibly small as she stared up at him with wide eyes.  

“I know we haven’t really talked about this, but… is… i-is this something that you want?”

“Maybe,” he admitted.

He swallowed.

“What about you? Would you ever consider….?”

Varian trailed off, and left the question hanging unasked in the air between them. It was not the  _ideal_  location for such an important conversation, admittedly - and he had no intention of forcing Auriana into a position that she found uncomfortable - but he could not deny that he was very interested in her response.

“I… I don’t know,” she said finally, after some very serious consideration. “But what I  _do_  know is that if we were to have a child… I would consider myself the luckiest woman in the world to have you as my protector.”

Auriana’s forehead creased in a nervous grimace, as if she were afraid that Varian would be angered by her answer, but nothing could be further than the truth. He appreciated her honesty, and as much as he would have been overjoyed to learn that she was carrying his child, there was nothing more important to him than her happiness and safety.

“Are we alright?” she asked worriedly.  
  
“Of course. We’re never anything less.”

To emphasise his point, Varian pulled her into his arms, and rested his chin on the top of her head. He was not usually one to show his affection so openly; or when standing in the middle of Stormwind arena, no less; but in this case, he felt an exception was justified. Auriana needed his reassurance, and he was more than happy to hold her close for as long as she wanted.

They remained standing silently in one another’s arms for quite some time, when Varian felt a brief frisson run down his back as Auriana’s hold on his chest abruptly tightened. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, he felt his limbs seize as he was gripped by some powerful, invisible force. He went briefly weightless, and a mere second later he found himself lying flat on his back on the ground; staring up at the serene visage of his wife. His fierce, beautiful, indomitable wife.

“I win,” she declared.

It was a peace offering, he knew; her strange little way of making sure that nothing had changed between them. A slightly bruising peace offering, perhaps, but one that Varian intended to accept.

“You didn’t win, you cheated,” he snarled, leaning his head back in the dirt and closing his eyes.

“Technically, we never formally finished the duel,” Auriana pointed out.

“That’s not what I’m disputing. You used magic. Cheater.”

It was a common point of contention between them when duelling, and one that had resulted in more than a few playful arguments. Auriana was mostly able to refrain from using her magic to tip the scales of their fights in her favour, but sometimes she couldn’t resist.

“At least I’m not the the one sitting on my arse in the dirt,” she countered, her lips curling in a triumphant smirk.

Varian tried his best to look genuinely affronted, but it was a difficult thing. Auriana’s ferocity and will to win was one of the things he loved most about her, and her challenging, gamesome spirit was making it very hard not to smile.

_As long as you have her,_  he thought,  _you have everything you’ll ever need._

He opened his eyes, and saw Auriana standing above him with her hand extended, ready to help him back to his feet. She grinned.

“Best two out of three?”


	4. Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece was written as a request for a friend for her birthday last year. I hadn't published it before now as it did have some spoilers, but I've since caught up to this point in my main series. Takes place a few weeks after Chapter 9/10 of 'Lion's Challenge'.
> 
> Mature content warning.

“I hate the rain,” Auriana murmured, tilting her head back to look up at the grey, overcast sky.

“Really?” Varian remarked, surprised. “You’ve never much seemed to mind before.”

“Well, I love a  _ proper  _ storm,” she amended. “But being out in this drizzle is  _ miserable _ .”

They had spent the morning in Sentinel Hill, and were just now riding back towards Stormwind along the long road that stretched west of Goldshire. The heavy sky above had been threatening rain all day, but thus far the weather had not worsened beyond a damp, gloomy mist. Still, the mist alone had been enough to wet Varian’s hair and soak through his shirt, and he could certainly sympathise with Auriana’s discomfort.

Despite her annoyance, however, she sat straight-backed and proud in the saddle, expertly guiding her horse with gentle touches of her hands and feet. For all she had fretted over becoming the Queen of Stormwind, she had taken to the role like a duck to water. It had not yet been two months since he had finally taken her as his wife, but to Varian it seemed as if she had ruled at his side for years.

“You could open a portal back to Stormwind, if you liked,” he suggested.

“No, no,” she said lightly, waving a hand. “We’re out here to see the kingdom, it rather defeats the purpose if I were to simply disappear. Besides, you intended to inspect the garrison posting at Goldshire on our way back, did you not?”

“I did,” Varian agreed, “But your comfort is my priority.”

He slowed his horse slightly so that he was level with Auriana, and leaned in to whisper so that only she could hear.

“If you’re cold, I’m sure I can find some way warm you up later,” he murmured suggestively.

Auriana laughed and swatted his arm playfully, but she could not disguise the swift, heated spark of desire burning deep in her dark blue eyes. There were some who said that passion faded after marriage, but Varian’s already considerable appetites had increased tenfold since the day Auriana had become his. Perhaps it was because it had taken so long to win her, but he found that could barely control himself whenever she was around.

“You’re incorrigible,” she muttered, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson.

Varian chuckled to himself as she subconsciously heeled her horse faster, and his pulse quickened as he began to imagine all the things he might do to her later that evening. The gloomy weather was much less noticeable when distracted by such delightful thoughts, and Varian hummed contentedly beneath his breath as he led his entourage swiftly down the road towards Goldshire.

Despite Varian’s increasingly good mood, however, it seemed that the weather was not quite so willing to cooperate. The sky overhead darkened menacingly as they rode, and Varian felt his arms prickle in warning as electricity crackled through the air. His horse began to skitter nervously beneath him, and he abruptly realised that they needed to make it to Goldshire sooner rather than later. 

He twisted in his saddle, gesturing for his guards to pick up the pace, but it was too late. The heavens tore open, and suddenly a little drizzle was the least of Varian’s problems. His ears rang as a burst of thunder roared overhead, and it began to pour so heavily that he could barely see over his horse’s ears. The poor beast was practically frantic, and it took all of Varian’s considerable skill to keep the animal in check every time lightning blazed through the sky.

Stormwind was named for the sudden and dramatic squalls that had frequently swept through the region, though it had been some time since Varian had seen a storm quite so bad as this. It felt as if Elwynn Forest were now the target of a particularly angry and vengeful god, and Varian’s party was caught right in the middle.

“Auri!  _ Auriana _ !” he bellowed anxiously, making a futile attempt to shield his eyes from the rain as he peered through the storm-blackened forest.

Varian highly doubted that she could hear him over the din of the rolling thunder and the driving rain, and his heart beat faster and faster for every second that she was out of his sight. They had been riding within a few yards of each other when the storm had broken, but it had come on so quickly that it was almost impossible to know where she had gone. His heart leapt into his throat every time he thought he thought he caught a glimpse of someone riding toward him through the trees, but it was impossible to tell whether it was Auriana or a guard – or even if it were someone  _ human _ , and not a frightened animal, or the rain playing tricks on his vision. 

His concern mounting exponentially, he called her name again, only this time, he received a response. Auriana appeared at his side as if out of nowhere; tendrils of her long, soaking wet hair wrapped around her neck by the whipping wind. Her eyes were wild, and she was clearly having a hell of a time trying to keep her panicked horse under control. 

“We need to find shelter!” she shouted. “We…”

The words were torn from her mouth as a massive flash of lightning hit a tree barely twenty feet to Varian’s left. Auriana’s horse reared in terror and bolted; taking off through the trees at a breakneck speed.

“Dammit!” Varian roared. “Auriana!”

He heeled his own horse off in close pursuit, though he dared not push too fast. One wrong step on the slippery ground would likely spell death for the horse and Varian alike, but it took everything he had not to chase after his wife at full speed. The driving rain was falling so heavily that it stung his face, and was so blinding that he almost missed Auriana’s horse veering abruptly through a stand of trees just to his right. 

Snarling in frustration, Varian hauled on the reins to turn his own steed after, when he heard what sounded like a soft groan from somewhere to his left. The sound was so faint that he thought he might have imagined it, but his instincts were all but screaming, and he abruptly pulled his horse to a stop.

“Auriana?”

“Here…” came a faint voice, and Varian spun in surprise to see his wife slumped at the base of a nearby tree.

He dismounted immediately, pulling his horse with him as he raced to Auriana’s side. Her once beautiful divided skirts were sopping wet and muddy, and her expression was utterly miserable. From what Varian could see, she had been thrown by her panicked gelding, and he silently prayed that she had not hit the tree or broken any bones.

“Are you alright?” Varian asked, crouching worriedly beside her.

“My ankle…” Auriana groaned painfully. “I landed on it badly...”

“We need to get out of this storm,” he said grimly. 

“I think there’s a barn or something over that way,” she said, pointing back over Varian’s shoulder. “I was trying to steer my horse in that direction when the damn thing threw me. I  _ knew _ I shouldn't have ridden side-saddle.”

“No point worrying about that now,” Varian said. “Come on. We need to get you out of this rain.”

He pulled Auriana gently to her feet, before lifting her easily with one hand and resting her over his shoulder. It wasn’t the most dignified position, perhaps, but it was the easiest way to carry someone, and it left him one hand free to lead his horse. He moved quickly in the direction Auriana indicated, being very careful not to trip, and let out a short sigh of relief as he finally caught sight of a ramshackle barn looming out of the furious deluge in front of him.

Varian gently lowered Auriana to her feet so that he might unlock the barn door, and he quickly ushered both her and the horse inside. A few curious cows looked up as they entered, but the barn was otherwise empty save for a few neatly stacked bales of hay and a rusty old pitchfork. Fortunately, while the walls looked flimsy from the outside, inside they seemed stronger, and they reduced the terrifying bellow of the storm to a dull, repetitive roar.

At the very least, it seemed the barn was sturdy enough to survive the lashing rain without collapsing, and Varian decided it was a suitable place to wait out the storm. He quickly secured his horse in an empty stall and gently patted the lathered beast in thanks, before turning back to inspect his injured wife.

Auriana was still upright, leaning on a nearby post for balance, but her breath came in short, shallow gasps.

“Auri?”

“Hurts,” she muttered, idly slicking her wet hair back from her face.

“Allow me?” Varian asked, gently lifting her up so that she was sitting up on a small loft used for the storage of hay.

The loft conveniently put Auriana’s hips at about his shoulder height, and he wasted no time sliding her skirts up her legs so that he might get a better look at her injury. She was wearing small, tailored leather ankle boots that fit snuggly around her delicate feet, and Varian was very careful not to jostle her overmuch as he slipped the thick laces and slid the shoe off. Auriana groaned slightly as Varian ran his hands gently over the pale skin of her ankle, noting how it had already begun to redden and swell. He was no healer, but he knew something of how to care for an injury, and he gentle moved her foot from side to side in attempt to assess the extent of the damage. 

“Well, I don’t think it’s broken,” he said finally, “But you’re going to have some impressive bruises. Best not to put the shoe back on, if your foot swells much more we’d have to cut it off.”

“I hope you mean the boot, and not my foot,” Auriana teased, frowning in mock concern.

Varian chuckled drily, and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her ankle. 

“Can I get you anything for the pain?” he asked. “I don’t have any proper supplies, but I think I still have a skein of water in my saddlebags…”

“It’s fine,” she assured him quickly. “It’s actually much better with the boot off, and we both know I’ve had worse.”

“Don’t remind me,” Varian growled.

Not for the first time, he thanked the Light that Auriana had lived long enough so that he might take her as his wife. Varian had loved her deeply before, of course, but something between them had deepened and changed since the eve of their wedding. She was  _ his _ , now, in every way imaginable, and he found it at once both thrilling and terrifying.

“The kisses help,” Auriana said shyly, resting her foot against the hard muscles of his chest with a small smile.

Varian glanced up, and realised that in his haste to attend to her injury, he hadn’t realised how particularly beautiful she looked in the soft, sombre light of the barn. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from their precipitous ride through the woods, and her hair hung in loose, wet tendrils around her face. The floaty white fabric of her bodice was drenched through, outlining the perfect, rosy peaks of her nipples, and the sight of her heaving breast sent a hot wave of lust burning through Varian’s loins. Auriana inhaled sharply as he stared at her in open admiration, and he was suddenly keenly aware of the way the energy between them had shifted. She no longer looked quite so pained, and she had shifted her weight so that she now leaned ever so slightly towards him.

“Is that so?” he murmured, slowly pushing her skirts out of the way as he traced a line of featherlight kisses up the inside of her left leg.

Her skin was cool and slightly salty from the rain, and Varian growled deep in his chest as he pressed his face into her creamy flesh. The pounding of the storm outside and the isolation made him feel suddenly free and wild, and he felt his primal instincts surge. He pushed Auriana’s skirts out of the way completely, and tore a heated moan from her lips as he pressed a teasing kiss against her most intimate area.

“ _ Oh,  _ Varian…” she whispered, her small hands stilling the path of his head. “What are you… we’re in a barn… lost in a storm…”

“And?” he challenged her heatedly. “You’re in pain. Surely as your loving husband I should do everything I can to help?”

“You intend to heal my ankle by kissing me…  _ there _ ?” she sighed, softly biting her lower lip.

“Well, we both know I’m no healer,” Varian murmured slyly, “But I’d like to think I know a little something about making you feel better…”

“The guards…”

“… have no idea where we are,” he reminded her, with his best roguish grin. “Who knows how long we’ll be trapped in here?”

Auriana wrinkled her nose dubiously as she gazed down at him, but there was a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. Varian had seen the adorable expression often; most commonly when she was skeptical of his intentions, but found him too charming to resist.

“I could always teleport us home…” she said slowly.

“You could,” he conceded. “Or you could let me love you…”

To emphasise his point, he once again pressed his mouth softly against the flesh at the very top of her creamy thigh. A small shiver ran up her back, but this time she did not resist as he curled a finger into the thin cloth of her undergarments and pushed them roughly to one side. He growled hungrily as he closed his mouth over her sex, and he was immediately rewarded with the sweet, honeyed tang of her arousal against his lips. 

It had taken some time for Auriana to trust him enough to perform such an intimate act, but over time she had come to crave the touch of his mouth as much as he craved her taste. She was already wet with anticipation, and Varian grunted with immense satisfaction as he slowly ran his tongue along the soft pink flesh of her entrance. Somehow, the relentless rain outside only served to make everything feel even more charged and wildly erotic, and he greedily drank her down like he was a dying man in a desert.

Auriana lay back with a throaty sigh as he suddenly flicked his tongue across her sensitive mound, instinctively spreading her legs wider before him. Varian smiled to himself as her hands slipped lustily into his hair, and he teased her with another slow, heated swirl of his tongue. He may have carried the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders – and indeed, sometimes the weight of the whole world – but when he was alone with Auriana, he was simply a man in love. There was nothing he loved more than to make her sigh and tremble, and he gradually lost himself in the uncomplicated joy of pleasuring his beautiful wife.

Varian knew  _ exactly _ how to build Auriana rapidly to her peak, but today he decided he was more in the mood to tease her slowly. The storm outside was still raging, and he was certainly in no rush to leave the barn with her laid out so magnificently in front of him. Unfortunately, the rest of the world seemed to have other plans, and Varian’s tender ministrations were interrupted by a loud shout from somewhere outside, and a violent rattling as someone attempted to open the barn door from outside. Knowing the door was not locked, he reluctantly pulled away, only to feel Auriana’s hands tighten in his hair as she tried to pull his mouth back down to her slick folds.

“ _ No _ …” she protested breathily. “Please don’t stop…”

“I’m sorry, my love, it seems we’ve been discovered,” he growled lowly, carefully releasing her white-knuckled grip. “You might just have to wait until we’re back in Stormwind…”

He licked his lips with a satisfied, predatory grin, and hastily pulled Auriana’s skirts back down to cover her legs. She sat up, her lips pursed in an endearing pout, but it seemed that Varian had acted just in time as half a dozen royal guards burst through the barn door. Auriana gasped, and her cheeks flooded crimson as she tried her best to straighten her skirts and disguise the evidence of their wanton encounter. 

“Thank the Light,” breathed Ridley, her practiced gaze raking over Auriana and Varian from head to toe. “We thought we’d lost you in the storm.”

As Auriana’s most dedicated bodyguard, Ridley had been Varian’s first choice to captain today’s escort. He rather regretted volunteering her, given that she now looked like a sad, drowned rat, but it seemed she was simply satisfied to have found her king and queen alive in one piece.

“My horse bolted,” Auriana explained, running a hand self-consciously through her dishevelled hair. “Varian chased after me, and we ended up here.”

Her gaze was still dark and slightly unfocused from Varian’s earlier attentions, though he doubted the guards would be able to tell why.  _ He _ could still smell the delicious scent of her lust all around, of course, but he was also possessed of senses far beyond those of ordinary men. 

“Where are the rest of you?” he asked, both to draw attention away from his flustered wife, and because he was genuinely concerned for the wellbeing of his men.

“This is all I could find,” Ridley said anxiously. “Cooper’s outside, he came off his horse and broke his leg. The rain has let up some, but we’re still missing Fulton, Blakemore, Hartley, and Ward. I had intended to rendezvous in Goldshire, and start a search once the storm passes.” 

“Though perhaps you should open a portal back to Stormwind for yourself and the King, Your Majesty,” one of the other guards suggested to Auriana. 

“No,” she said firmly. “If there are still guardsmen lost in the storm, I would prefer to wait until they are found before returning to the city.”

Her earnestness and genuine worry were clear to everyone in the room, and Varian nodded proudly. He had never been the kind of king who thought of his guards or subjects as lesser people, and he was pleased to see that Auriana felt the same. As much as he regretted being interrupted in the midst of satisfying his wife, he also supposed that it was best if they were to get to a proper shelter.

“We will all ride for Goldshire,” he ordered. “If we’re waiting out the storm, I would rather we be somewhere safe and warm.”

He beckoned for one of the guards to retrieve his horse, and reached up to lift Auriana down from the loft. She shivered involuntarily at his touch, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself in smug satisfaction. Apparently, she was still rather sensitive, and he was suddenly very eager to be off to Goldshire.

“Should we find a horse for the Queen?” Ridley asked.

“No,” said Varian roughly, never taking his eyes off Auriana. “She rides with me.”

He pulled Auriana into his arms and carried her outside, following close on the heels of the guard leading his horse. As Ridley had promised, the rain was not quite so driving as before, and he could at the very least see more than a few feet in any direction. It was still a terrible storm, however, and Varian wasted no time lifting Auriana carefully onto the back of his horse, before swinging up into the saddle behind her. 

She gasped ever so slightly as his hard body settled against her back, and Varian quickly moved a hand to her stomach to keep her firmly in place. He  _ was _ determined to lead his guardsmen to safety, but having Auriana so close was admittedly very distracting; especially when considering that they had been interrupted before Varian could take his fill. The lush curve of her buttocks now grazed against his groin every time she moved, and it was all he could do not to throw her down on the wet ground and take her right then and there. It didn’t help that he could  _ still _ smell her lust, even over the fresh, earthy scent of petrichor in the air, and he instinctively found his hand slipping lower to gently press against her lower belly as he urged his horse back up the road towards Goldshire.

Fortunately, chasing Auriana through the storm had apparently brought them closer to the village than Varian had anticipated, and the bright lights of the Lion’s Pride Inn came into view after only twenty minutes of careful riding. Varian held Auriana close the entire way, and he was practically ravenous with desire by the time he dismounted his horse and burst through the doors of the inn. A tall blonde woman behind the bar looked up as he entered, and her mouth fell open in surprise as she beheld the sopping wet King of Stormwind, standing on her threshold with his bedraggled Queen in his arms.

“Your M-majesty,” she stammered, with an awkward bow. “Ah… welcome, welcome. How can we be of service?”

“My entourage was riding back from Westfall when were caught in the storm, and the Queen was injured,” Varian said evenly. “I would appreciate the use of one of your rooms until the storm passes. My men will be in shortly, after they’ve seen to the horses – please see to it that they are fed and watered. I will pay for everything, of course.”

He kept his eyes firmly trained on the innkeeper, doing his level best to ignore the many curious glances of the taproom patrons. The Lion’s Pride Inn was apparently a  _ very _ popular place to take shelter in a bad storm, and it seemed to Varian as if half of Goldshire was now staring at his back. Auriana, too, seemed to have noticed the attention, and he practically  _ felt _ her blush as she turned and hid her head in his shoulder. 

“Certainly!” the innkeeper exclaimed, her blonde head bobbing eagerly. “I will take you to our best room immediately. I could also send the village healer up to tend to the Queen?”

“No need,” Varian growled quietly. “I will take care of her.”

He felt Auriana shiver in his arms at the double entendre, and he forced himself to remain calm as the innkeeper beckoned towards the stairs.

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” she said brightly. “Please, follow me.”

The walk to the upper floor of the inn seemed interminable, and Varian was more or less at his breaking point by the time the innkeeper finally unlocked the door of a suitable room. As she had promised, the room was surely one of the inn’s finest – large and spacious, with a king-sized bed and a luxurious bear skin rug laid before the crackling hearth. The endless rain drummed softly on the windows outside, and Varian could think of few better places to spend a stormy afternoon. He carried Auriana purposefully across the threshold, careful not to bump her head on the wooden doorframe, and gently set her down before the cheerful fire.

“Perfect,” he said honestly, giving Melika an approving nod. “You have our thanks.”

“It is my pleasure,” she replied eagerly. “If there is anything you require, you need only ask.”

“The only thing I require is privacy,” Varian said firmly. “See to it that we are not disturbed.”

He closed the door rather abruptly in the blonde innkeeper’s face, twisting the lock firmly before turning back to Auriana and folding his arms across his chest. 

“Is your ankle alright?” he asked seriously. “I know what I said to the innkeeper, but I would never deny you healing if it were needed.”

“It’s merely twisted,” she said dismissively. “It’s of no concern.”

Auriana licked her lips invitingly, and in that moment Varian knew that an ankle injury was the very last thing on her mind. She  _ wanted _ him, just as badly as he wanted her, and he was more than happy to sate her desire.

“Good,” he growled.

He closed the distance between them in three quick steps, his hand sliding eagerly to her slender waist as he drew her in for a heated kiss. The natural sweetness of her lips mingled pleasantly with the taste of fresh rain, and he groaned loudly as Auriana pressed the length of her body lasciviously against his. Unable to abide her clothes for a second longer, he reached down and slipped a finger into the laces of her bodice, loosening them with a well-practiced flick of his wrist. The sopping wet fabric of her skirts clung to her pale skin, but Varian was both determined and desperate, and in no time at all he had stripped her down so that she was wearing nothing but firelight.

Auriana was still rather shy about her nakedness, though Varian had never in his life seen a more perfect creature. Tiny droplets of water glittered across her bare shoulders and stomach, and the soft pink tips of her nipples peeked teasingly out at him from behind her long, wet tresses. Her lips were red and swollen from his fevered kisses, and the heated desire shining in her dark blue eyes was enough to drive any man to madness.

Varian pulled her close, and leaned down so that his mouth was pressed right up against her left ear.

“On your knees,” he whispered.

Auriana’s breath hitched, and with her eyes never leaving his, she sank down onto the rug and stretched out on all fours before him. Varian shuddered at the sight of her, his rock-hard erection straining at his breeches, and his hands trembled with pent up desire as he ran his hand roughly over the smooth curve of her rear. Auriana’s back arched slightly as she leaned into his touch, amplifying the already impressive curves of her body, and he marvelled at the way the firelight danced over her pale skin. She may have been small, but she was most  _ definitely _ a woman, and Varian’s entire body ached to be inside her. 

Still, he had taken great delight in teasing her during their all-too-brief tryst in the barn, and he abruptly decided that he was in the mood to make her beg.

“What do you want?” he asked her quietly.

“You…” she whimpered, her voice deep and breathless with lust. “ _ Please, _ Varian…”

“Like this?” he asked innocently, sliding a long finger down the line of her buttocks and into her dripping sex.

Varian’s earlier efforts had apparently had great effect, and yet somehow, Auriana grew even wetter as he slowly and deliberately worked her aching core. A second finger soon followed the first, and Varian grunted with immense satisfaction as her thighs grew sticky and slick with the evidence of her own arousal. She cried out as his rough fingertips brushed across the tender pearl that crowned the heart of her womanhood, and she knotted her hands desperately in the soft fur of the bearskin rug. Varian knew exactly how she loved to be touched, and within minutes he had her panting and quivering beneath him as her long-awaited climax finally rippled through her body.

“Varian…” she moaned, sinking down onto her elbows and arching her back even further. “I… oh,  _ Varian… _ ”

“Talk to me, my little she-wolf,” he rumbled. “Tell me what you want.”

“ _ You _ ,” she gasped. “You, Varian, all of you.  _ Please _ .”

Unable to deny himself any longer, Varian unbuckled his belt and slipped free of his confining trousers, towering over Auriana as she tried to control her frantic breathing. His enormous manhood stood stark and proud in the shifting firelight, and his heartbeat quickened as he at long last sank to his knees behind his wife. As much as he enjoyed making her beg, he could only tease her for as long as he himself could resist the urge to take her, and he was rapidly running out of patience.

Varian closed his hand around the base of his hardened shaft, and languidly stroked himself as he stared down at the woman he loved. Auriana was trembling fiercely desire and anticipation, and Varian could scarcely believe that something so beautiful and precious was  _ his _ . The curve of her back showed off her begging, glistening sex to great effect, and Varian found he no longer had it in him to resist her. He splayed his free hand lovingly across the small of her back, and with a long, drawn-out groan of pleasure, finally buried himself within her.

With Auriana as wet as she was, he did not need to be especially slow, and he hilted himself deep inside her with little effort. It never ceased to amaze him how  _ warm _ she was, nor how she managed to be both incredibly tight and incredibly soft at the same time, and he took a long moment to savour the sweetness of their first joining before he began to make love to her in earnest.

Auriana groaned and pressed her face against the bearskin rug as Varian moved, ever so slowly withdrawing his entire length from her body before pushing swiftly back in. She fit him so well that he could feel each ripple and shiver of her body, and he loved the way she keened for him with every thrust. His hands ran wantonly over her silver skin; his right palm finally settling on the point of her hip while his left slid up to the base of her neck. He had always found this position especially thrilling, perhaps because it made him feel that Auriana was entirely within his thrall; and as he pushed himself faster and faster, the part of him that was Varian faded away as Lo’Gosh took full control.

Varian was soon rutting desperately within his wife like a wild wolf, grunting savagely as he crashed into her again and again. He was not usually quite so rough, but the combination of the unrelenting storm, the open fire, and his fiercely beautiful mate had set his blood ablaze. Fortunately, Auriana seemed similarly taken by her own primal urges, and she drove him on with her every lust-filled shiver and frantic cry. The untamed heat building within Varian’s loins began to spiral out of control, and he felt the hard muscles of his chest and back tighten as he grew closer and closer to his release. Auriana called his name, begging him to finish her for the second time, and Varian buried himself as deep within her as he was physically able as his entire body began to shake. His large hands tightened possessively over her hips, and he threw back his head and roared as he finally broke himself within her trembling body. 

Varian’s triumph was so loud that he was certain the whole inn must have heard, but he was quite frankly beyond caring. All that mattered to him in the world was Auriana, and the way she made him feel. Their love was as wild and free and fierce as the storm still raging outside, and as Varian bent forward and pulled her back against him, he felt as if there were nothing in the world that could ever hope to tear him down.

“Now, tell me, Auri,” he whispered, tangling his hand in her hair as he placed a tender kiss upon her shoulder, “Are rainy days  _ really _ all that bad…?”


	5. Unbroken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a Tumblr prompt with the words ‘wounded’, ‘death’, and ‘insomnia’. Set somewhere between 'Lion’s Triumph' and 'Lion’s Rise'.

 

Auriana dreamed.

She was somewhere cold and dark; a place that the light had never truly touched. Blood - _her_ blood - seeped into the cracks of the rough stone floor, mingling with the stained tears of a thousand prisoners before her. Her entire body felt as if it were burning and freezing all at once, and she could barely move an inch in any direction without a wave of seething agony ripping through her body. Worst of all, arcane shackles bound her wrists, cutting off the flow of her precious magic and leaving her entirely without hope of respite or escape.

In a strange way, the loss of her magic hurt Auriana more than the physical pain. Without it, she felt _hollow_ ; an empty shell instead of an actual living being. Her magic was light, and life, and everything about her that was worthy or special, and the sense of loss that hung over her was enough to break her heart as she cowered lost and alone on the cold stone floor. The arcane shackles had revealed the truth of her; had revealed the dark terror that lurked in the very depths of her soul, and she had nearly worn her wrists down to the bone in her frantic attempts to get free.

But no matter how much Auriana struggled, no matter how much she fought, or screamed, or begged for the sweet release of death, the pain never ceased. It lay over her like a dark shroud; a cruel and eternal companion who refused to leave her side. _Everywhere_ hurt - from the flayed skin on the tips of her fingers to the vicious slashes across the delicate tendons of her ankles - but worst of all was the grotesque, ragged hold in her chest, just above her heart. Auriana didn't know how she could possibly bear such a wound and still be alive, but there it was; a giant, gaping hole of darkness that could never, _ever_ be filled....

 _You will_ always _be wounded_...

Auriana jerked upright, awake, her hand reflexively closing over her mouth as she bit back a scream. Her thunderous heartbeat was so loud in her ears that she was sure the entire Keep must have heard, but the night air around her was as still and silent as the grave. Her lungs ached as if she had just run a hundred miles, and yet her limbs shook with the kind of desperate energy that made her feel as if she _must_ run a hundred more.

Beside her, Varian stirred, grunting slightly as he rolled onto his stomach. He was a tangible link to the real world, a stark reminder that Auriana was safe in their bed and not bleeding out in a torturer’s dungeon, but in that moment, it made little difference. She could have woken him, she knew, but she hated to see the look of fear and helplessness in his eyes as he tried his best to comfort her. It was not his fault that she still had nightmares.

It was not his fault that she was so utterly _damaged_.

Try as she might, Auriana could not fight back the choking panic rising in her throat. For a lesser nightmare, she might have simply curled up against Varian's side and allowed the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to lull her back to sleep, but tonight was different. The room around her felt suddenly stifling, as if the walls were closing in from all sides, and Auriana found herself in the grip of a powerful, inexorable instinct that screamed at her to _get out_.

She stumbled out of bed, shivering as her bare feet met the cold stone floor. It was a chilly night, but Auriana did not care. All that mattered was the seething, sickening pressure devouring her heart; the uncontrollable sense of dread threatening to drown her from the inside out. Her chest seized, as if being crushed by an invisible hand, and she fled for the door.

* * *

Varian dreamed.

He was standing on a battlefield, somewhere, though he could see no landmark that he recognised. The air was thick with blood and sweat and the screams of soldiers, and Varian knew instinctively that this was a battle that had been lost. His muscles ached with fatigue, even though he couldn’t remember fighting, and Shalamayne’s blade ran red and sticky with blood.

Torn Alliance battle standards were scattered all across the field, though Varian could see no flag or sigil that may have indicated who they had been fighting. Discarded weapons lay everywhere, alongside what remained of several once-mighty siege engines, and he had to watch his footing carefully to avoid tripping over the debris.

Curiously, it seemed that Varian was the only man still standing. Soldiers lay dead and dying as far as the eye could see, but not a single one had managed to regain their footing, or even sit upright. It was not only their wounds - and indeed, most were horrific - but also that a pervading sense of dread hung in the air, crushing spirits and forcing even the bravest of warriors to accept defeat. Even Varian could feel it, leeching away at his strength and sense of purpose, and yet he grit his teeth and pressed doggedly forward.

He could not have explained why, but he was _driven_ to move; driven to pick up his feet and continue even when his every other instinct implored him to lie down and surrender to the darkness. On and on he walked, past weeping men and severed limbs and scattered bones, despair growing in his heart with every step. Varian was a hard man, but even the hardest man in the world could not possibly remain unmoved by the the sight of so much death and destruction. Each fresh cry of agony all but broke him, but Varian thought that if he could just keep going, if he could just keep _moving,_ he could perhaps find some last lingering bastion of hope...

And then he saw _her_.

If not for the fact that she were laying in the midst of a slaughter, Auriana might have looked like a painted fairytale maiden, sleeping on her back atop a throne of scattered rubble. Her hands were folded neatly across her stomach, and her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders in a dark, delicate halo. She was completely and utterly still, too, as if she had been carved from stone, and never in his life had Varian seen something so pale, and perfect, and timeless.

There was nothing perfect, however, about the monstrous, gaping wound in her chest.

Varian let out bellow of sheer, unrelenting agony, and the sound was so loud and so _raw_ that it felt as his throat had been torn out. He charged forward, his limbs suddenly suffused with a frightening energy, and he tripped and stumbled his way desperately up the mound of debris to Auriana’s side.

Up close, the damage to her chest was far worse than it had appeared from, and Varian let out a low, keening howl as he staggered to his knees before her. Shalamayne tumbled carelessly from his fingers as he fell, the metal of the blade clanging loudly as against the rubble, but Varian could hear nothing save for the roaring of blood in his ears.

Auriana’s body felt as limp and lifeless as a ragdoll as Varian pulled her into his arms, and clutched desperately at the pale skin of her wrists and throat. It couldn't be _real_ , he thought, she couldn't possibly be _dead_ ; not _her_ , not his fierce, precious mage...

But there was no life there, no hope; only the ice cold, clammy skin of someone long since dead. There was no healing to be had, no escape or trick that might bring her back. Auriana was simply _gone_ , her brilliant light extinguished from the world as thoroughly as if it had never been. She had died alone, and in pain… and Varian’s heart broke as he realised that he had once again failed to protect a woman he loved.

 _You can_ never _save her from death..._

Varian’s eyes flew open, and he let out a strangled cry as he came crashing back to reality. The room around him was almost pitch black, lit only by the faintest beam moonlight streaming in through a gap in the curtains, and yet Varian saw movement and threat in every shadow. His back and chest were slick with perspiration, his body thrumming with enough energy to fight a thousand battles, and while he could no longer smell the sickly, metallic reek of drying blood, he found himself practically choking on the heady musk of his own panicked sweat.

The bed, at least, was firm and real beneath him, as were the soft cloth sheets tangled around his ankles, and it was by focusing on those small details that Varian managed to regain some sense of control. He was in Stormwind Keep, he reminded himself, in his chambers, and most certainly not standing on a desolate battlefield with Auriana’s corpse laid out before him. She had fallen asleep in his arms, wonderfully warm and alive, and all he had to do was reach out and touch her...

Instead of the comforting softness of Auriana’s flesh, however, Varian felt a fresh wave of blind terror overtake him as his hand found nothing but rumpled sheets and emptiness. He sat bolt upright, his every instinct screaming as he peered into the blackness, but she was nowhere to be seen. Varian was alone, and in a dim part of his mind he wondered whether he had always _been_ alone, and whether Auriana had never been anything more than a figment of his desperately lonely imagination.

In his panic, it took Varian a few moments to realise that the bed beneath his hand was still warm, suggesting that she had been there not too long ago. He glanced towards the heavy door, noting that it was still closed - though realistically he knew a door meant very little to a woman who could reappear on the other side of the world with a mere thought. He also could not think of a reason _why_ Auriana would feel the need to vanish in the middle of the night without a word, though admittedly, it wouldn't have been the first time.

Of course, in the end the reason mattered very little. Auriana was gone, and all Varian really cared about was finding her and bringing her home. He very much needed to hold her close, to feel the warmth of her skin on his and the precious beat of her heart thrumming beneath his fingertips, and he would not be able to rest until she had been returned to him.

With a shaky sigh, Varian swung his long legs off the bed, and reached for the loose linen pants he kept hidden beneath his matress. He generally preferred to sleep naked, though he always had a pair nearby in case he needed to wake unexpectedly during the night. He now yanked them on with little fanfare, and had just started to make his way to the entrance of his chambers when he heard a very faint sob echoing toward him from somewhere outside.

His brow furrowing in concern, Varian turned away from the door, and took several tentative steps towards the balcony. Most unusually, the door _here_ had been left open, and with a short sigh of relief he realised that Auriana must have been a lot closer than he had initially feared. The sound of her _crying_ was decidedly less comforting, however, and he quickly stepped out into the night to find her.

The air outside was bracing, but in a way, Varian welcomed the cold. The chill breeze did much to slake the fearful heat surging through his veins, and provided him with a much-needed shock of clarity. The moon above was also so huge and so close that it almost seemed to be perched atop the spire of the Stormwind Cathedral, bathing the entire city in a soft silvery glow. Another time, Varian might have paused to admire its beauty - but tonight was not a night to be distracted.

He found Auriana sitting with her back against the balustrade at the very end of the balcony, her knees curled up to her chest as she rocked back and forth. Her entire body was trembling violently, and her eyes were squeezed firmly shut as if she were trying to block out the world. Of greater concern, however, was the fact that her slender arms were ablaze with light as she clutched frantically at her own knees. It was an instinctive, defensive reaction; but also one that could potentially have very dangerous consequences for the people around her.

Evidently, Varian was not the only one who had been having bad dreams.

“Auri…” he murmured, keeping his voice low and calm, “Auri, look at me…”

Varian was keenly aware of his size as he crouched down beside her, and how easily he could appear threatening if he were too move too quickly, or in the wrong direction. This was not the first time he had found Auriana breathless and distraught after a horrific dream, and he was sadly well practiced in dealing with the aftermath. He moved with glacial slowness, and it was only after she opened her enormous blue eyes that he dared reached out to place a careful hand upon her shoulder.

“Auri…” he repeated softly, “Can you hear me?”

His own nightmare seemed distant and unimportant in the face of her visceral distress, and he banished his own fears to the back of his mind as he focused entirely on her. She needed him, and as far as Varian was concerned, that was the _only_ thing in the world that mattered.

“V-varian…?”

Auriana was clearly struggling to focus, though she let out a strangled gasp of recognition as her hazy gaze found his. She reached for him blindly, her nails scratching against his bare chest as she made an awkward, fumbling attempt to pull him close. He caught her gently by the wrists to prevent her from doing him any real harm, still moving slowly so as not to send her spiralling downwards into a further panic. Even then, she started at his touch; though she nevertheless allowed him to slide one hand around her waist so that he might lift her off the ground.

Auriana’s legs were shaking wildly with fear and effort, and she staggered as her bare feet found purchase on the cold stone floor. She was utterly _freezing_ , her flimsy little nightgown offering little protection against the chill air, and Varian vaguely wondered how long she had been outside, weeping alone in the dark. It hurt him like a physical blow to see her in such distress, and he gathered her swiftly into his arms in the hope that the warmth and strength of his body might provide her with some small measure of comfort.

“That’s right, Auri, it's me,” he murmured, stroking the length of her back and burying his face into the silken tangles of her hair. “I'm here. You’re safe with me, I promise you…”

The words rang somewhat hollow, in light of the utter failure Varian had suffered in his dream, but it seemed that for once, he had said the right thing. Auriana pressed herself tightly against him, and her tiny hands gripped his body with the desperate strength of someone three times her size. Her body was both rigid with tension and alive with magic, and it wasn't long before her quiet whimpers devolved into harsh, racking sobs.

Varian felt almost as if he were trying to hold lightning in his arms, such was the strength of the arcane power coursing through Auriana’s body. His skin prickled everywhere they touched, and he couldn't quite shake the ominous feeling of being only inches away from a very powerful explosion. She was not actively channelling, but he knew from experience that she was holding an enormous amount of magic in reserve. At this distance, Varian also knew he would be vaporised in an instant if she were to lose control - and yet oddly, he felt no fear. He trusted Auriana absolutely, and if she needed to cling to her magic in order to feel secure, then he would not deny her.

It was only once her shaking had fully subsided, many long minutes later, that Varian attempted to talk her down. He very  gently prised her away from his chest, and ran his hands along the lengths of her shining forearms.

“Auri,” he whispered. “You can let go.”

For a moment, Varian thought she might resist. A brief flash of rage flickered deep within her eyes, as if she thought _he_ were a threat to her magic, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She shook herself ever so slightly, and for the first time since Varian had found her on the balcony, she seemed to truly remember who and where she was. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and as she exhaled, the fierce glow about her arms and eyes slowly faded away into nothingness.

“Auri?”

“I… I'm a-alright,” she muttered hoarsely. “I'm in c-control.”

“What was it this time?” Varian asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

“Foundry.”

She didn’t say anything more. She didn’t have to.

A spark of anger kindled in Varian’s chest for all the pain she had suffered, and if not for the fact that Blackhand was already dead, he might have been inclined to charge off to Draenor to avenge her agony. Such a thing would do very little to soothe the trembling woman in his arms, however, even if it may have made _him_ feel much better, and he instead settled for comforting her with soft touches to her cheeks and neck.

Moments like these always made Varian feel helpless and somewhat awkward. He wanted to help Auriana with every fibre of his being, but he could never quite shake the feeling that he just wasn't very _good_ at it. He wasn’t as naturally empathetic as Anduin, and often had a hard time expressing his more intimate emotions. He wasn't as wise as someone like Velen, nor eloquent like Jaina. Hell, he'd even caught Genn Greymane, of all people, being soft with Mia in a way that he wasn't quite sure he could imitate.

For some unfathomable reason, however, Auriana had chosen _him_ , and he was fiercely determined not to disappoint her.

“Auri… I…”

“Am I broken?” she asked roughly, cutting Varian off before he could say anything more.

She turned her head away, unable to look him in the eye, and he could tell that she was still fighting back tears.

“I th-thought it would pass with time,” she confessed, “But some nights it’s like it happened yesterday. I can feel it in my _bones_. I can feel what they did to m-me...”

Auriana’s voice cracked on the last syllable, as she buried her face into the crook of Varian’s arm once more. Her suffering cut into him like a thousand knives, and his desperate  hold on her became so tight that he was sure it had to be suffocating. She was so brave, and brilliant, and capable, and yet there would always be a part of him that wanted to lock her away somewhere she could _never_ be hurt ever again.

Such a thing was not possible, of course, as much as it may have pained Varian to admit. As he had learned from Anduin, seeking to control those he loved would only serve to drive them away. It was a difficult thing to do, given that Auriana was obviously in such a hurt and needy state, but Varian had long ago sworn to himself that he would be a better man - both for her, and for his son.

 _You cannot control her_ , he told himself firmly. _You can only support her._

He closed his eyes, and with a great effort, he forced himself to release some of the painful tension in his hold upon her body.

“You're not broken, Auri. You're _strong_ ,” he whispered fiercely. “The strongest person I've ever known. I don't know anyone else who could have survived the kind of things you have survived with such… grace. I certainly couldn't have done it.”

Auriana sniffled quietly, and she turned her face even further into the safety of his chest. Her frantic breathing had at least slowed, however, and while she had given no outward sign, Varian knew she _was_ listening.

“For what it's worth… I’ve spent a good part of my life wondering the same thing. Wondering whether I was... _damaged_. Fractured beyond repair…”

He rested his chin on the top of her head, and stared out at the twinkling lights of his city below. There was always something comforting about Stormwind at night. The city was peaceful and at rest, and it reminded Varian that for all his flaws, he _was_ a king who protected his people. Maybe not the king they deserved, but a king who would keep them safe.

“But… I don't think that's true,” he added, letting out a long sigh.

“No?” Auriana mumbled. “What changed your mind?”

“Anduin has made a great deal of difference. More than he knows,” Varian explained. “He's so… _good._ If he's my legacy to this world, then I can't have been all bad, don't you think?”

The faintest ghost of a smile crossed his face as his thoughts turned again to his son, and he felt some of the heart-rending pressure in his chest lessen.

“And then... there was you.”

“Me?” Auriana asked, the pitch of her voice rising in surprise. “What did I do?”

Varian paused for a moment, unsure how to put his thoughts into words. He knew exactly what it was Auriana had done for him, the many ways she had changed him and made him _better_ , but he found it a difficult thing to express out loud.

“You… you _saw_ me,” he began slowly, “Not just Varian, or Lo’Gosh. Not _half_ of me. You saw the gladiator and the king, the good and the bad… and you saw me whole. _Unbroken_.”

He caught her chin between his long fingers, and turned her face upwards so that he could look her in the eye.

“You and I are of a kind, Auriana,” he whispered. “We were forged by fire. We bend. We crack. But we never break. It isn’t how we’re made.”

For a long moment, they simply stared at one another in silence, neither blinking or even so much as breathing as a thousand unspoken things passed between them. Auriana was luminous beneath the light of the full moon, and despite the pallor of her skin and the unshed tears glistening in her eyes, Varian thought she looked beautiful. More than that, she was still alive _,_ and safe, and _his_.

A low growl rose in his throat, and he lowered his head to capture Auriana’s mouth with his. There were no words for the things he truly wanted to say to her, but in _kissing_ her, in _holding_ her, he could give her all his strength, and his courage, and his love. In a single, breathless moment he laid every part of himself bare, the passion of his embrace silently urging Auriana to take whatever she needed from him.

When they finally pulled apart, Varian’s cheeks were damp with Auriana’s tears, though her expression was no longer quite so haunted. He knew from past experience that it would take some time her to fully recover from her nightmare and the subsequent terror that had gripped her heart; but for now, at least, she was calm.

“It’s cold,” she murmured, hugging her arms around her body against the breeze. “We should go back inside.”

“Agreed,” Varian said, nodding, “Though I don’t think I’m going to sleep again tonight.”

Auriana frowned, and rested a gentle hand on his forearm.

“You never told me what woke you. Did you have a bad dream, too?”

“Yes,” Varian said stiffly.

He once again saw Auriana’s pale, unmoving corpse in his mind’s eye, as clearly as if she were laying right in front of him, and he shuddered.

“I take it you don’t want to talk about it?” she observed.

It had taken Varian some time before he felt comfortable showing Auriana _any_ vulnerability whatsoever, and even after all they had been through, it was still not something that came easily to him. Deep down, he had always feared that she would scoff at him - or worse, _pity_ him - but he had come to learn that she would offer him nothing less than quiet understanding. Tonight, however, there was something about his dream that left him far more shaken than usual, and he had no desire to relive it a second time. Not even for her.

“Not tonight,” Varian muttered. “You’ll have to forgive me.”

“Varian… there’s nothing to forgive,” she said softly, reaching up to caress his scars. “I just… worry about you sometimes, is all.”

“ _You_ worry about _me?_ ” Varian snorted.

“Always.”

Auriana tilted her head to one side, and a small, tentative half-smile pulled at the corner of her lips. Varian could still see the strain of her nightmare lurking behind her eyes, but it seemed that she was determined to be stronger than her own fear. It was one of the things he loved most about her, and he more than willingly allowed her to pull him down for another slow, tender kiss.

“I’m no healer,” she murmured, her breath warm against his lips, “But I think I know something that might help with your insomnia…”

“Oh...?”

Auriana brushed the last tears from her eyes, and nose crinkled shyly as she stared up at him through wet lashes. She then looped her finger through the drawstring of his pants, and took an inviting step back towards the warmth and comfort of their bedroom, away from the cold and the lingering echoes of their nightmares.

“I need you,” she said simply.

“I need you, too,” Varian admitted, his voice low and throaty. “But…”

“Please don't argue with me out of some kind of sense of gentlemanly obligation. We _both_ need this,” she countered.

She slipped her hand into his, and stared up at him with eyes like fire.

“Come make me feel whole…”

  
  
  
  



End file.
